on coercees. If they were sophisticated, that usually meant eavesdropping —in the home, office, and car.
As the minivan left the United Electronics complex, Louis Armstrong’s What a Wonderful World began playing on the radio. Alex feared Elaine might lose it then and there—punch the gas and head for a tree—but she took the sensible, feminine approach, and just switched the radio off. Oh to be testosterone free …
As she drove through the darkness toward the unknown, Alex imagined the torrent of horrible speculation that must be cascading through her mind—shovels and shallow graves, ropes and rape scenes—and felt ashamed of his own fear. He also felt the urge to console her, but knew he had to harden his heart instead: He was about to beckon her toward the dark forest with the barrel of his gun.
Wildwood Park had closed hours earlier at dusk, but Alex knew that Elaine often arrived before the dawn opening, parking on an adjoining street that yielded access the running trails. Eight minutes after leaving the parking garage, she pulled into her usual spot and turned off the engine. Alex timed the opening and closing of his door to coincide with Elaine’s for the benefit of the eavesdropping audience. Then, pistol raised, he stood face to face for the first time with the woman who betrayed his brother.
Her pretty face was a puffy red mess and her cheeks stained by mascara-laced tears, but Elaine’s swollen eyes were thoughtful and alert. This could still go both ways, he thought. Her lower lip quivered as Alex motioned silently toward the trail, but she did not faint or even hesitate. What was this poor woman used to that she wasn’t convulsing in unbridled hysteria right now?
After a thirty-yard executioner’s march, Alex said “that’s far enough.” He tried to project a tone that sounded serious without being ominous.
She stopped.
“Turn around.”
Elaine did as she was asked. Alex centered his flashlight on her neck so she could look toward him without being blinded. He studied her face. He saw fear, resolve, and … relief? All were good signs, but he had one more test before dismissing the ice-cold operative scenario outright. Was this where Frank had stumbled? With a quick flip of his wrist, he centered the beam on his own face, closing his eyes as he did so to avoid night blindness, and then returned the beam to her neck. “Do you know who I am?”
She shook her head. Alex looked her in the eyes for a moment longer, searching for deception. None registered. “My name is Alex Ferris.”
Her face brightened a shade at what he interpreted as a pleasant surprise. She saw the resemblance—for the first time.
“Frank was on to you before he was killed.”
“On to me?”
“Yes, he knew you were sabotaging the project.”
A look of shame crossed her face but she neither denied it nor evinced surprise that Frank had not died by his own hand.
“Did you kill him?”
“Heavens no. I don’t know anything about that.”
Alex believed her. It was in the timbre of her voice and the creases around her eyes. “But you’re not surprised?”
Elaine looked to the ground and shook her head.
“He didn’t say anything to you, act differently, the day he died?”
“No.”
He must have done something to trigger the…reprisal…but Alex decided to let that pass for now. “Why are you sabotaging the UE-2000?”
She tensed again.
Alex read the conflict on her face. He decided to show some faith in the hope that Elaine would reciprocate. He lowered the gun. “Please, tell me.”
Alex watched her stand there silently as a battle raged within, nervously tugging her sleeve while the tears rolled. He gave her another nudge. “We’re here in the woods so we can’t be seen, can’t be heard. It is going to come out Elaine. I have tonight’s switcheroo on tape. The question you have to ask yourself is this: Do you want
As the minivan left the United Electronics complex, Louis Armstrong’s What a Wonderful World began playing on the radio. Alex feared Elaine might lose it then and there—punch the gas and head for a tree—but she took the sensible, feminine approach, and just switched the radio off. Oh to be testosterone free …
As she drove through the darkness toward the unknown, Alex imagined the torrent of horrible speculation that must be cascading through her mind—shovels and shallow graves, ropes and rape scenes—and felt ashamed of his own fear. He also felt the urge to console her, but knew he had to harden his heart instead: He was about to beckon her toward the dark forest with the barrel of his gun.
Wildwood Park had closed hours earlier at dusk, but Alex knew that Elaine often arrived before the dawn opening, parking on an adjoining street that yielded access the running trails. Eight minutes after leaving the parking garage, she pulled into her usual spot and turned off the engine. Alex timed the opening and closing of his door to coincide with Elaine’s for the benefit of the eavesdropping audience. Then, pistol raised, he stood face to face for the first time with the woman who betrayed his brother.
Her pretty face was a puffy red mess and her cheeks stained by mascara-laced tears, but Elaine’s swollen eyes were thoughtful and alert. This could still go both ways, he thought. Her lower lip quivered as Alex motioned silently toward the trail, but she did not faint or even hesitate. What was this poor woman used to that she wasn’t convulsing in unbridled hysteria right now?
After a thirty-yard executioner’s march, Alex said “that’s far enough.” He tried to project a tone that sounded serious without being ominous.
She stopped.
“Turn around.”
Elaine did as she was asked. Alex centered his flashlight on her neck so she could look toward him without being blinded. He studied her face. He saw fear, resolve, and … relief? All were good signs, but he had one more test before dismissing the ice-cold operative scenario outright. Was this where Frank had stumbled? With a quick flip of his wrist, he centered the beam on his own face, closing his eyes as he did so to avoid night blindness, and then returned the beam to her neck. “Do you know who I am?”
She shook her head. Alex looked her in the eyes for a moment longer, searching for deception. None registered. “My name is Alex Ferris.”
Her face brightened a shade at what he interpreted as a pleasant surprise. She saw the resemblance—for the first time.
“Frank was on to you before he was killed.”
“On to me?”
“Yes, he knew you were sabotaging the project.”
A look of shame crossed her face but she neither denied it nor evinced surprise that Frank had not died by his own hand.
“Did you kill him?”
“Heavens no. I don’t know anything about that.”
Alex believed her. It was in the timbre of her voice and the creases around her eyes. “But you’re not surprised?”
Elaine looked to the ground and shook her head.
“He didn’t say anything to you, act differently, the day he died?”
“No.”
He must have done something to trigger the…reprisal…but Alex decided to let that pass for now. “Why are you sabotaging the UE-2000?”
She tensed again.
Alex read the conflict on her face. He decided to show some faith in the hope that Elaine would reciprocate. He lowered the gun. “Please, tell me.”
Alex watched her stand there silently as a battle raged within, nervously tugging her sleeve while the tears rolled. He gave her another nudge. “We’re here in the woods so we can’t be seen, can’t be heard. It is going to come out Elaine. I have tonight’s switcheroo on tape. The question you have to ask yourself is this: Do you want
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